Balance
by myrmidryad
Summary: Peter may not have wanted to admit it, but we needed Edmund. As siblings, we are balanced, and the balance is delicate. Oneshot from Susans POV flowing from Edmund's return to the coronation celebrations.


_Story came about when I was visually hit with the scene of Susan and Edmund being cautious about Mr Beaver while Lucy and Peter followed him without question, and the scene of Susan being put down by Peter at the frozen waterfall. I just felt that in that scene in particular, the picture was missing a character - there was an Edmund-shaped hole behind Susan._

_**Disclaimer** - insert witty disclaimer comment here - _

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Peter may not have wanted to admit it, at least out loud, but we needed Edmund.

As siblings, we were balanced, and the balance was delicate. Peter was too stubborn and straightforward to see it. Lucy felt it, but she was too young to really know _why_ their being unbalanced felt wrong. I myself, Susan, can see it and define it.

I see the balance preserved in bonds, or links. Were we to stand in a square, you could use thread to link us up in different ways that were all vital to our wellbeing.

For instance, we are four, but were someone to split us into two well-functioning teams, how would they do it?

You could put Peter and I, the two eldest together, and Edmund and Lucy, the two youngest together. Or you could have Peter and Edmund, the two boys, and Lucy and I, the two girls. The most tangible bonds in my opinion are between myself and Edmund, and Peter and Lucy.

Peter and Lucy are the two sunny ones, bright and happy and instantly loved, Lucy for her own love of practically everything and everyone, and Peter for his obvious nobility and leadership, that air around him that makes you want to follow him and trust him.

Edmund and I are the darker side. We do not make friends easily, for Edmund feels the need to contradict everything and say exactly as he feels, and I prefer to be left alone to read or draw. We've never really gotten along, but we tolerate each other far better than others. We could both quite happily spend the entire day together, though the interaction between us would not appear to exist to an outsider.

I had never truly appreciated how much Edmund was needed until we were on the run from the Witch and Edmund was in her clutches, separated from us. We needed him to balance us. I needed him especially, though I would never tell him that.

We (Edmund and I), balance out Peter and Lucy. When we first came to Narnia together, just a few days ago (can it be so short a time?) and we were ushered out of the ruins of Mr Tumnus' house by the mysterious bird to meet Mr Beaver, Peter and Lucy followed without question, so trusting are their natures. I was the one who pulled Peter back and questioned, and Edmund backed me up.

I know now, of course, that he did that not out of support for me, but out of cunning, for he wanted to lure us to the Witch without interference from the Beavers. But it doesn't matter. The point is there.

So when we came to the frozen waterfall, which was quite obviously _far_ too dangerous for us to cross, I naturally countered Peter's automatic following of Mr Beaver. But without Edmund to help balance us, balance me, the scales we all stand on were tipped alarmingly and what happened? We were nearly attacked by wolves, fell into a freezing ice water river, nearly drowned, and almost lost Lucy!

"Susan."

I look up. Lucy is looking at me sadly, her head slightly cocked to one side. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." I smile reassuringly. The bond between Lucy and I used to be strong, and then it weakened as I grew up and lost patience with her games, preferring to lose myself in books where the characters followed a proper story. But now, here in Narnia, it is growing strong again. I can feel it, a tangible force. Yesterday it manifested at the river where we laughed and splashed each other.

Lucy nods.

"Come on." I get up from where I've been lying on my bed. "If we leave Peter alone too long he'll only get himself into trouble."

"The trouble will find him." Lucy giggles. "It always does."

I laugh a little and duck out of the tent, Lucy behind me. Oh no. Peter is here. Did he hear us? I frown. He looks at me with an expression I can't fathom, and then looks up to the rocks that ring our camp. I follow his gaze and next to me Lucy shouts, "Edmund!" and dashes forward.

Peter catches her, and the figures on the rocks turn to look at us. It is indeed my little brother and Aslan, the great lion. It looks like Aslan has given Edmund lots to think about as he walks towards us.

I am shocked by the changes the Witch has wrought upon our brother. He is slightly hunched, his hands in his pockets, his whole posture pulled in to present less of a target. Gone are the wide strides and brash, ill-mannered expression. Instead his face is bruised, his lip cut, and he walks slowly, reluctantly getting closer. He has been miserable, it is clear to see. I hope Peter sees and doesn't say anything he will regret later.

Aslan walks up alongside Edmund and looks at each of us in turn. "What's done is done. There is no need to speak to Edmund about what is past." He walks away and Edmund looks after him, then reluctantly turns his gaze to us. I see his eyes go to Peter first, and I know the expression on my older brother's face can't be exactly welcoming, as Edmund looks down, and I feel the bond quiver, ready to break at any moment.

"Hello." He looks up at us through lowered lashes, then down. Lucy wastes no time concealing her joy at his return and rushes to hug him. My smile widens as instead of pushing her away as he would have done back home, Edmund smiles and hugs her back. Their bond grows strong and shines.

I look at Peter with a smile, but his lips are not upturned like ours and he regards Edmund with something like mixed disappointment and wariness. I shoot him a hard glare he doesn't seem to see, and go to hug Edmund myself. I feel our own bond strengthen as he hugs me back and I give into my mothering instincts.

"Are you alright?"

He smiles very slightly – the gash next to his eyebrow and the bruises look painful, and I make a mental note to ask for some salve to put on them. "I'm a little tired."

"Get some sleep." Oh, so the great warrior speaks. My eyes narrow slightly, though not enough so as he would notice.

The bond wavers, but for once Edmund doesn't argue, he simply obeys, and he walks past Peter with bowed head and slumped shoulders. Peter finally sees his sisters and I know Lucy is mirroring my pointed expression. Peter's features soften and he turns to look at his brother.

"And Edmund?" Edmund turns, hope obvious in the speed of his reaction. "Don't wander off." Edmund smiles mischievously over his shoulder, and just like that, their bond is strong again.

We need Edmund. We need all of us together, though Peter can't understand that as he tried to send us home over breakfast. But Lucy feels it, and now Edmund has a sense of justice in him so strong it has all but destroyed his cowardly ways. We will stay and help fight this battle because it is unimaginable to leave them to their fate against the evil that bewitched and enslaved my brother.

It is just before the coronation, and I am horrifically nervous. We've won a war, defeated an evil that lasted a century and freed an entire world, yet I feel more afraid now than I ever felt on that battlefield.

I stare with wide eyes at my reflection in the mirror as a dryad fixes my hair. I can feel myself beginning to hyperventilate. I don't want to do this! I don't want to get up in front of hundred of people! It's terrifying!

The dryad finishes and bows. She is unspeakably beautiful, and all I can do is thank her weakly and watch her reflection in the mirror as she sways gently from the room. I close my eyes and allow myself to whimper quietly. I have had terrible stage fright ever since a school nativity play when I was only five years old. I was Mary, but when my first scene came – walking to the river to fetch water, I took one look at all the expectant faces in front of me and froze.

The teacher had to come on and lead me off gently and a girl who had learnt all the words in the vain hope of being Mary had her wish come true as she played my part wonderfully, far better than I ever could have done. I was only really picked for my pretty face, after all.

"Susan."

My whimper stops and I turn in surprise at the deep voice. "Aslan?"

"You do not need to be afraid."

"I've always had stage fright." I sigh.

Aslan smiles kindly. "Then you must simply overcome your fear. I will help you."

"You will?" I gasp, relieved. "How?"

"I will be right beside you the whole time. You are needed, Susan, far more than you think."

I drop my gaze, bite my lip, then look back to his ever-patient eyes. "What…what do you mean, Aslan?"

Aslan turns his head slightly to look into the eyes of my reflection. "You can see the delicate scale your family stands on, the balance you all depend on. You are not protective like Peter, quick to anger like Edmund, or unhesitatingly brave like Lucy."

"I'm sorry, Aslan." I lower my eyes, my throat constricting painfully with tears. They halt when the great lion chuckles gently.

"I am not admonishing you, child. You have the ability to step back from the situation and think about it calmly, even in the midst of chaos. It is an admirable quality, and not one to be ashamed of. It will save your family's lives one day."

"It will?" I say, surprised. "How can you know that?"

He laughs again. "Some things are as clear as mountain water, my dear. And one of those things is this – your courage."

"I'm not as brave as Peter and Edmund and Lucy." I shake my head. "They can all rush into battle without a second thought."

"And therein lies your courage." Aslan says wisely. "Whose courage is greater? The man who sets out to war for his country? Or the woman who stays behind to look after the children, feed her family and keep her home safe? There are many kinds of courage, Susan."

I smile tearfully and turn, dropping to my knees and flinging my arms around his mane. "Thank you, Aslan." He laughs, and it resonates into my arms.

"You are quite welcome. Do you feel better?"

"Yes." I stand, still smiling. I feel ready now.

"Your courage shines." Aslan says approvingly. "And Susan?"

"Yes, Aslan?"

"Help Edmund. The balances must be carefully maintained, for if they weaken too much, dreadful things may happen." I nod solemnly, thinking of Edmund and the White Witch. "Your gift for analysis and the ability to step back from the chaos must be shared with Edmund. He will have his own gifts for you." He added with a smile. "You must look after each other, for if divided, you will fall."

"Yes, Aslan." I nod.

"Then come, dear one." He smiles.

The long walk up the path between the centaurs is still terrifying, but as I go, I let my hand brush Aslan's mane every so often, and it helps me to control myself, and when I sit in my throne, and Mr Tumnus crowns me, my fear evaporates like it was never there. My crown nestles snugly into my hair, not loose or in danger of falling off, as I had worried.

At some point during the celebrations, Lucy comes up to me and murmurs that Aslan has left quietly, without fuss. I smile. It sounds very like him. As soon as there is a lull in the dancing, I seek Edmund out. I see his silhouette on one of the balconies and go to join him.

He is leaning his elbows on the stone wall, staring out over the beach. He glances to his side as I imitate his pose and smiles slightly, then goes back to staring. He doesn't speak. He never does around me – he knows I prefer silence, and so does he.

So he is surprised when I talk. "Edmund?"

"Yes?" He is curious now – I can see it in his eyes.

"Do you feel the way our family is balanced?" I ask softly so that a passing faun won't overhear.

"What do you mean?" He frowns.

"The way that you and I balance out Peter and Lucy."

"Night and day." He remarks wryly. "Yes I know."

"Aslan…Aslan told me that these balances need to be carefully maintained. He said that I was to help you." I say the last part hesitantly, for I know Edmund hates to be coddled, and he despises pity. To my surprise, he doesn't scowl as I had expected, but nods and smiles faintly.

"He told me something similar on the day I was rescued."

"On the rocks?"

"Yes."

"Oh." We don't speak, having little experience in that area. As previously mentioned, we are neither of us big talkers.

"I…" He starts hesitantly. "Peter and Lucy are already in synch." He says, finding the words. "But you and me…aren't. Not really."

"And for the balances to work, we need to." I sum up with a smile. "Any idea how we should start?"

"I could teach you chess." He shrugs.

My smile widens. "I'd like that."

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So reader? If you made it this far, click the GO button. I double dare you. XP


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